When all you've got is an empty page - by Susan J Bruce

Photo courtesy of Deposit Photos

You need wise words. You must have some… somewhere. It’s your turn to blog, but your ideas don’t just fly out of the window. They do a full circle and smash into the glass, falling stunned on the ground below. Your body aches – the pain is persistent, your brain is tired, and the shop you needed that thing from closed just as you got there. You’re grumpy at your husband. No major reason, you just are. The dog is barking, the cockatiel is screeching and you wonder why it’s all so hard. 

 

A fruit rat clunks along the gutter outside your study window. Another - or possibly a very large mouse - scurries behind your skirting boards, changing direction with a clunk so loud the wall vibrates. You don’t want to put down bait – you have pets – so you shut your eyes and pray that the resident rodents won’t eat wiring. Then you survey your study and wish you could be rewired so you could have the energy to clean up the category-five-like devastation around you. With a deep sigh you check your bank balance and wonder if it’s time to give up writing and get a real job that pays the bills. 

 

Cute rodent photo by Svetozar Cenisev on Unsplash

You start typing but your words depress you. You want heart and hope to be part of your brand but it’s as if the H-words have grabbed their togs and towel and headed to the beach with a wave of a hand and a conspiratorial giggle. You tap your foot and stare at your watch: They were due back an hour ago, but they are out there somewhere cruising down the street in the little red convertible you know you’ll never own.

It’s been a while since you’ve had such a penchant for the pity-party (not to mention excessive alliteration) and the smallest smile invades your face. The corners of your lips twitch and a reluctant, wry grin reframes your countenance. You lift your gaze again. This time not to the rooftop racetrack of the resident ‘Rattus rattus’, or the cobwebs in the corner, or the dust on your desk-shelf, but you see the truth of who and whose you are. 

 

Hope pushes through the window of self-pity. Heart grapples with the gloom and casts out the word ‘can’t’. You cheer as truth squashes lies like flies. You are not alone.  

Photo by Kristopher Roller on Unsplash

There is a King. You are His.
There is a Creator. He made you in his image.
You are fearfully and wonderfully made. His. Works. Are. Wonderful.
You did not choose Him. He chose you.
You are part of his plan and purpose. 

You were bought with a price. 

You will live for eternity with him.
You are loved with an everlasting love.

He is with you to the end of the age.
And he can do more in your life than you can ever ask or imagine. You grin at that. You can imagine a lot.

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Sometimes the page before you is empty – but you are never an empty page. Eternity is written on your life with indelible ink, the colour of blood.

 

Remember.

Rejoice.

Write.

 

Reflect...

Genesis 1:27 

Psalm 139

Song of Solomon 2:16

Jeremiah 31:3

Matthew 28:20

John 1:1-5

John 15:16

1 Corinthians 6:20

Ephesians 3:20

Revelation 17:14

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Susan J Bruce, aka Sue Jeffrey, spent her childhood reading, drawing, and collecting stray animals. Now she’s grown up, she does the same kinds of things. Susan worked for many years as a veterinarian, and now writes stories filled with mystery, suspense, heart and hope. Susan also loves to paint animals. Susan won the ‘Short’ section of the inaugural Stories of Life writing competition and won the 'Unpublished Manuscript' section of the 2018 Caleb prize. Susan is the editor of'If They Could Talk: Bible Stories Told By the Animals' (Morning Star Publishing) and her stories and poems have appeared in multiple anthologies. Her e-book, 'Ruthless The Killer: A Short Story' is available on Amazon.com. You can check out some of Susan’s art work on her website https://www.susanjbruce.com.